Stardust

Something I wrote at 1 am about love and space.

It's been said that humanity is made of stardust

The bits and pieces of the universe scattered and compacted into a new race of beings.

And as I walk in bustling city streets and sit in

I don't see it.

I strain my eyes to look for the celestial essence we all supposedly hold within.

But I can't see it.

I don't see it in the woman rushing to catch the next train

With her hair flowing and ebbing with each torrent movement.

Nor do I see it in the man talking to his friend

As fire crackles beneath each word and gusts of wind accent each gesture he makes.

I see the stars, the essence of our universe and the fragments of ourselves, in no one but you.

Your smile is filled with the gleam of the full moon

You dance on beams of sunlight

Stars and constellations comprise your skin and the fine strands of your hair

Your touch ruins me just to make me whole again

In a new and more beautiful way with each and every time

You are Life and Death itself

The Big Bang that makes my world end in a whimper.

And I would have it no other way.

Author's Note

I wrote this at 1 am which is why it's garbage